


Served Cold

by starlalalala



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Asphyxiation, Drowning, FAHC, Fake AH Crew, Gen, M/M, Sensory Deprivation, Torture, but like... not in a kinky way, i'm not sure what counts as graphic so if you feel a change in tags is appropriate let me know, water boarding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 07:56:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13072521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlalalala/pseuds/starlalalala
Summary: Ryan’s past comes back to bite him. Gavin gets caught in the middle.





	Served Cold

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, Anon, for the prompt!
> 
> Prompt: “If you even THINK about touching him, I’ll kill you.”
> 
> (Also, I’m not entirely sure what counts as Non-Graphic, so if anyone thinks a change in tag is appropriate or wants any additional tag, let me know)

“If you even  _think_  about touching him, I’ll kill you.”

That was enough to give the man pause. He eyed Gavin from behind the plain white mask, looking away from an unconscious Vagabond. Apparently, a threat coming from the Golden Boy was novel enough to draw his attention.

“You heard me, you shitty knock-off. I’ll kill you  _myself_ , and string you up in this warehouse! Let everyone see what happens when you mess with the Fakes.” Gavin’s predatory grin was more effective when he wasn’t tied to a chair. It was all about overconfidence and bluster, an act he’d put on a hundred times before -and one he would put on a hundred times again, because he wasn’t fucking dying here. And neither was Ryan.

The man’s attention stayed on him for a moment longer, before he tossed a bucket of water onto Ryan. 

Gavin cursed as Ryan woke up, coughing and sputtering before the man ripped off the black skull mask and threw it onto the floor. Most of Ryan’s facepaint had been spared, except around his nose and mouth where water still dripped. Ryan looked around wildly before his breathing settled and his eyes found Gavin’s, and then he saw the man in the white mask.

“I didn’t realise you two were so close,” the man said, attention back on Gavin.

Without missing a beat, Gavin grinned. “I don’t like people touching my stuff.”

Ryan growled, sounding more animal than man. It was something he was  _really_ good at, and Gavin winked as soon as the masked man turned around again.

Ryan and Gavin had been placed facing each other, about ten steps between them. The warehouse was large, with broken windows that let in the night breeze and the sound of waves crashing against the dock. It would’ve been nice, if the place didn’t reek of fish and salt.

The man walked away to a table to their right, and Gavin tested his restraints. The chair was sturdy, bolted to the floor, and his arms had been tied to the back of the chair, elbows together, his legs secured to the chair. The man and his associates -because there was no way one guy took Gavin  _and_ Ryan- hadn’t taken any chances, and had used duct tape and then rope, and then handcuffs on his wrists. 

Ryan seemed to be in a similar predicament. When their eyes met, Ryan gave him a slow nod -they wouldn’t give him anything. 

The man returned wheeling a trolley, covered in scalpels, pliers, knives both smooth and serrated, and a small selection of syringes. He parked it next to several buckets of water.

Gavin let out a low whistle. “Organised! I like it. You know what you’re doing, huh?” 

For the first time, the man seemed thrown off. Gavin couldn’t see his face behind the mask, but he gave off such a genuine sense of confusion that Ryan snorted -and then broke down coughing, because he’d breathed in wet face paint. 

“That’s not a good thing for you,” the man said, ignoring Ryan. 

Gavin smiled, shrugged, and tried to swing his legs -before he remembered they were firmly attached to the chair. “Well, means that we didn’t get nabbed by some nobody, right? Got a reputation to uphold.” The man nodded, accepting the point. Teeth showing through his grin, Gavin asked, “What’s your name anyway? Or what can we call you?”

“Does it matter?” The man walked closer to Gavin. Behind him, Ryan shook his head, but Gavin kept his eyes trained on the man.

“Want to know what I should be screaming later,” Gavin replied with a wink, and that startled a laugh from the man. 

Ryan scowled. The man went back to his trolley, so Gavin could give Ryan a quick smile before he returned.

“You may call me Asterion,” the man said, “or at least,  _you_  may.” Asterion nodded at Ryan. Gavin opened his mouth to question him.

And then he couldn’t breathe.

Duct tape covered his nose and mouth. Gavin tried to draw a breath, but got nothing, and wordlessly protested, voice muffled by the tape, shoulders heaving against the restraints. Asterion had just made a mistake, he wasn’t actually going to kill him like this, he’d adjust the tape, he would, there was no point in keeping Gavin alive like he had unless he had some sort of plan for him-

Gavin couldn’t breathe. 

Tears fell without any say from him, and he desperately searched for Asterion’s face, trying to tell him that this was  _wrong_ , but his vision was quickly greying out. His head was pounding, he couldn’t breathe out either and the pressure was going to kill him, Gavin was  _sure_  his head was gonna fucking implode-

Ryan yelled, an indistinct noise behind the roaring in Gavin’s skull, and all of a sudden he could breathe again.

Gavin took in a few gasping breaths before the tape returned -he shook his head, but this time it only covered his mouth. 

“Sorry, Golden Boy, gotta keep that silver tongue in check,” Asterion said. This close, Gavin could see his eyes behind the mask -could see him wink. Mocking.

Asterion moved out of Gavin’s sight -and then his hands settled on Gavin’s shoulders from behind. Gavin was only just able to control his flinch. 

He tried to meet Ryan’s eyes, but Ryan was focused on what must have been Asterion, his face twisted into a snarl. His facepaint exaggerated the movement of his face, gave him too many teeth, turned him into something monstrous. It didn’t look like he was worried about Gavin. It looked like he wanted to rip out someone’s throat.

“I’m not interested in the Fakes, Vagabond,” Asterion began, one hand disappearing from Gavin’s shoulder, “I’m interested in you, and what went down in Georgia ten years ago.”

Gavin let out a noise of confusion, muffled by the tape. Ryan narrowed his eyes but said nothing, still glaring at Asterion. 

Suddenly there was a grip in Gavin’s hair, the back of his head slamming against the chair and he was looking up at Asterion’s chin, could see right up his nostrils which was just  _gross_ , his neck tilted at an unnatural angle. Gavin tried to escape and Asterion’s grip tightened, his other hand still resting on Gavin’s shoulder.

“I didn’t think you’d want to talk about it,” Asterion said, his tone even, polite. “But I have to insist. Otherwise Golden Boy here gets tarnished.”

There was a moment of silence. Gavin’s breathing evened out again. He could handle a little torture, if that’s what it came to. They were still in Los Santos, they’d be found soon enough, the others might even be on their way now. Whatever this was about, they were going to be fine.

“Or maybe he doesn’t matter to you,” Asterion said, and shrugged, the movement jarring Gavin’s neck and prompting a grunt of discomfort. “But he matters to Ramsey, right? See what he thinks when he finds out what you let happen. See what he thinks when he finds out  _why.”_

The fist in Gavin’s hair disappeared, as did the hand on his shoulder, leaving his skin feeling clammy and uncomfortable. Finally he could see Ryan again, try to distract himself from whatever Asterion was messing around with on the trolley.

Ryan did meet Gavin’s eyes this time, and he looked -scared. Ryan looked scared. He was hiding it, and if Gavin hadn’t known him for years he never would’ve seen it, but Ryan was afraid of whatever was happening here, whatever this man was talking about. It was hard to make out the blue in Ryan’s eyes in the darkness, but Gavin could see the pleading look in them.

Gavin wasn’t sure what he was trying to ask.  Understanding, perhaps. Ryan’s mouth was a thin line on his face, jaw clenched tightly like he was afraid what might come spilling out if he let himself relax. 

Gavin steeled himself. Ryan had a personal stake in this, fine. One of them still had to be calm. 

And then-

“ _Hey-”_ Ryan yelled, and Gavin’s world rocked with a blow to his head. 

Pain took a moment to register, but when it did, it forced a whimper out of Gavin and tears sprung to his eyes. His view of Ryan was blocked by black spots in his vision. He blinked them away, recovering quickly -this wasn’t the hardest he’d been hit, it wasn’t even  _meant_ to be that hard, not hard enough to knock him out. 

Asterion was crouched in front of him when he recovered, blank mask staring at him, eyes hidden in shadow. Gavin’s temple throbbed.

“It really is unfortunate you had to be involved in this,” Asterion said. “My apologies.”

Lacking the ability to spit, Gavin responded with a withering look.

Asterion shrugged, stood and walked behind Gavin. With Ryan in his sight again, Gavin tried to look confident and reassuring despite the tape over his mouth and what must’ve been swelling along the left side of his face. Ryan looked ill, and he couldn’t quite meet Gavin’s eyes, always looking over his shoulder at whatever Asterion was doing.

And then cloth was covering his eyes, and Gavin couldn’t see Ryan anymore.

* * *

The tape had disappeared a while ago. It hadn’t been of great quality, apparently, because while Asterion was waterboarding Gavin with a towel and a bucket it had started to peel away at the edges. Too risky, anyway, to keep it up with Gavin’s mouth covered -even if it made everything so much worse, the possibility of Gavin drowning was just too great.

Instead, industrial-strength headphones were secured over Gavin’s head, and he was left with nothing but a roaring in his ears, his beating heart, and any sound he made magnified in his own head.

He’d tried to make a joke when the tape came off, laugh off Asterion’s actions as him being one kinky motherfucker, but his throat was scraped roar and he wasn’t sure either Asterion or Ryan heard it. Gavin also wasn’t sure he’d said any real words. He’d long ago lost track of how long they’d been here, and his brain was still recovering from the lack of oxygen. 

But the others would be here soon. They had to be.

Gavin hated it, but he felt oddly comforted whenever he could feel something -even if it was a punch to the stomach, or a knife trailing along his skin. So long as the attention was on him, Ryan was safe, and while Asterion was a lot more experienced than Gavin had first thought this was still within the realm of what Gavin could handle. Even if the coughing was starting to really hurt his chest.

He didn’t know how Ryan was doing, though. Obviously couldn’t hear him yelling anymore. Asterion had been taunting him about -something. Whatever he’d grabbed them for. 

Gavin’s head was pulled back by the hair once again, a slightly damp towel thrown over his face.

He couldn’t help it. He whimpered. The sound was deafening in his head but was soon drowned out by his breathing, quick, shallow breaths and he needed to breathe deeply, needed to hold his breath, needed to minimise the damage of this-

After a moment, Gavin’s hair was realised from the painful grip and he desperately shook the towel off his face. 

And then the headphones were ripped off.

“Okay okay, let’s t- what the hell are you doing?” Gavin could’ve sobbed in relief, hearing Ryan’s voice again. It sounded a little hoarse, a little painful. But it was Ryan.

“Don’t you think Golden Boy here deserves to know what he’s been suffering for?” Asterion spoke. Gavin flinched when he felt a hand on his hair, but Asterion only ruffled it gently.

“I don’t-”

“Let me give you an ultimatum here, Vagabond, because this is getting absurd.” Cold steel pressed lightly against Gavin’s throat. “Talk, or I kill him.”

There was silence.

The steel disappeared, and then-

“Alright! Alright, okay, I’ll -just stop, stop,  _stop, STOP_ -”

Gavin felt a light sting on his neck. It took a moment for him to recognise it as the knife biting into his skin. It disappeared, blood spilling out after it. The wound was survivable. It was still painful. 

Gavin was shivering violently now. He could hear Ryan. It sounded like he was crying, but Gavin was barely aware of the sound, the shock, drowning, and blood loss over the course of however long they’d been here adding up.

“What happened, James?” Asterion hissed, and-

“It was just a hit, okay, I was paid, it wasn’t personal, I didn’t know anything about it other than the name,” Ryan babbled, and-

_Bang._

A gunshot cracked through the small space. Gavin couldn’t react to it. His head was slumped onto his chest, and he had enough presence of mind to be upset that he was bleeding on a nice white shirt. It took a moment for him to remember he should be worried, worried about Ryan.

“Gavin? Gavin, can you hear me?” Oh, Ryan was talking. He was fine. Gavin could relax. Or maybe not, because Ryan didn’t sound very happy. “Gavin, c’mon, you’re awake, right? Gavin?”

“Gavin! Ryan!” Someone else was here, too. He knew that voice. “Jesus Christ, what the fuck happened?”

Michael. Of course it was Michael. “Hey, boi,” Gavin managed, though he noted distantly he didn’t sound very good. Hands were on him again and he whined, trying to move away, but everything hurt and he was still all tied up, anyway.

“Gav, Gav, hey, it’s just me, it’s just me,” Michael was saying, and Gavin calmed down a little. It was much easier to just sit. “I’m gonna take off the blindfold, okay? Just keep your eyes shut for a bit. We need to let your eyes adjust.”

Gavin wasn’t actually sure if his eyes were open or not, so he screwed them tightly shut to be sure. The cloth was removed from his eyes and the night air on Gavin’s face helped him breathe easier, helped him feel a little more aware. Michael was working on his restraints, he was sure, and now he could feel how hurt he was. His chest ached, his lungs ached, his throat was killing him. A myriad of little cuts and bruises all stung him, and his neck- god, it wasn’t life-threatening, but it wasn’t a shallow cut, either.

Gavin’s legs were free, and Michael moved behind him to work on his arms. There were more hands on him, though, and cloth pressed against his throat -his eyes flew open and he tried to move away, but it was just Ryan, already out of his restraints and holding a jacket against him. Behind him stood Geoff, who was on the phone with someone and glancing at Gavin every so often.

“Hi, Ry,” Gavin said, or tried to say, the sound croaked out and too quiet. His vision was a little blurry but Ryan looked upset, and the only way Gavin could think to comfort him without his voice was to faceplant into his shoulder- which he did, as soon as Michael got his arms free.

“Gav,” Ryan grunted, rocking back on his heels to adjust to Gavin’s weight. Gavin’s arms protested the movement, aching from being held in one place for so long. He didn’t really care, though. There were too many hurts for him to be able to focus on just one. “Jesus, Gavin, you-” Ryan cut himself off with a frustrated noise.

Gavin felt himself being shifted, gently pulled from the chair. He groaned in pain but was hushed, quiet words he couldn’t quite register washing over him.

“Ryan, you’re not carrying him, you’re gonna mess yourself up,” Michael snapped, but no one really tried to move Gavin away from him, and when Ryan stood he didn’t seem to have any trouble with Gavin’s weight.

“I’m fine,” Ryan said, an edge to his voice that prompted Gavin to hide his face in the leather of Ryan’s jacket. “He never touched me.” There was a moment of silence, as if Michael wasn’t sure whether to comment on the crack in Ryan’s voice or not.

“You were still -whatever. Don’t drop him, the car’s not parked too far.” Michael pressed the cloth closer into Gavin’s neck, taking the time to wedge it between Gavin and Ryan so it kept pressure up. 

“We’re heading to the clinic past the waterfront. They’re expecting us.” Geoff took the lead. Gavin peeked out from Ryan’s shoulder and could see him holding his gun, still wary. .

“I’m sorry, Gavin,” Ryan whispered. Gavin painfully lifted an arm and clutched Ryan’s shirt in response. “I’m so sorry.”

Gavin allowed himself to relax in Ryan’s grip, and let Ryan’s apologies keep him awake.


End file.
